milliways_bar | Entries tagged with the bunny

misterbunny.livejournal.com

There is a blond girl currently crawling down the stairs, her eyes half way closed, due to tiredness, dressed in some kind of night gown. The Bunny is nothing if he don't have his morning cup of coffee. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs to gnaw on his foot, trying to figure out what he's missing, then shrugs it off.

"Meh."

Across the bar still on hands and knees, until he gets to Bar herself, and attmepts to hop up on her. And fails, miserably.

"What, the fisk?"

And now he actually looks at his hands and feet, his expression slowly growing worried.

"I'm a fiskin human? Wasn't a puppet bad enough?"

And then he looks down. And screams.

"I'm a chick?"

anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com

Today is a day like any other. The sun is shining, the birds are crapping on the heads of those unwary who venture outside beneath the trees, and there's a heaping portion of potent magical food set out for unsuspecting bar patrons.

The curry has bided its time.

And it has waited long enough.

It slops placidly within its enormous bowl. Beside it is jasmine rice; behind it is a dusty trickle of curry powder. The very suspicious might think that it looks like the curry is trying to send some of its powder into a nearby jug of water, but they're clearly delusional and paranoid.

The fact that the entire display might not be there when certain patrons look -- patrons who have had some experience with curry -- is just . . . a trick of the light.

f33dm3.livejournal.com

There's a large potted plant on the floor of the Bar, near the front door.

It wasn't there a while ago. Weird. Did the Oompa-Loompas decide to redecorate or something? If so, they need to take better care of this plant. It looks like it's on its last legs. Or stem. Or whatever.

[ooc: Please read this backroom post on Audrey II's feeding habits before tagging.]

misterbunny.livejournal.com

Vrrrmmm rrm rmm rmm put put put...

VRRRRRMMMMMMM rrm rmm put put..

"Fisk it!"

The Bunny kicks the miniature engine he has on the table, causing it to rattle on the stand.

RM rmmm rmm rmm...

"Oh, now it works!"

k_in_black

The Front Door opens and, for just a moment, the sounds of a massive construction site came into the bar, along with a certain Man in Black who hasn't been around in quite a while.

Those who know him well might notice a spring in Agent K's step, not to mention an equally uncharacteristic smile, as he heads over to Bar and orders a bourbon.

As the glass appears in front of him, K pats the bar counter. "Thank you, Darlin'. It's good to be back."

thegreatmachine.livejournal.com

Mitchell Hundred has a headache.

His headache, as one might get from the slightly aggravated expression on his face as he looks at the mechanical wonder on the table before him, stems from the fact that there is a serious warp in the metal on the outside of his jetpack. It's actually bad enough that it's cracked in a couple of spots.

Now, Mitchell is an engineer. And he built the damn jetpack, albeit in a trance, so he's not really worried about the ability to fix it. Mostly, he doesn't think he can find the parts or the tools to fix it here. Which, really, isn't a huge problem. After all, he has a door.

It's just that he doesn't want to face Kremlin until the damn thing is fixed.

Hence Mitchell sits with his slowly cooling breakfast, staring at the jetpack as he silently begs it to PLEASE STOP COMPLAINING; I'M WORKING ON IT.

misterbunny.livejournal.com

"Lemme see... I need about 20 pounds of steel, some metal workin tools, tires that are about six inches high, make them spoke rimmed if ya would,mhmm."

The Bunny eyes his accumulating piles.

"And some extra stuff. Ya know what I'm workin fer."

Oh, Bar. So helpful. So in trouble.

bring_a_sponge

[OOM: After the briefing, and after gearing up with every weapon they can can carry, Teams Alpha and Delta head out, while Team Omega stands guard at the Front Door, making sure not a drop of Black Oil reaches Milliways and, from there, the rest of the universe.

So how does it go?

Well, Team Alpha find out why you should never ignore an MiB trash can; discover what happened to an old friend; learn just how well named the MiB 'shooting gallery' is; and come face-to-face with the would-be architects of the Men in Black's utter destruction.

While all that's happening, Team Delta go flying on purpose and by accident; wreak havoc with the market value of the MiB HQ; and have a truly "ew"-worthy romp with giant, slimy bugs. They also discover what you'll hear in MiB elevators, and Goldy makes some interesting new friends.

Meanwhile, Team Omega hold the line against something that has way too many arms; 'borrow' some items from the MiB armory that will surely mean trouble for somebody somewhere; and are the first to see just how very, very BIG everyone's troubles are going to get before the Black Oil finally goes down.

And then there's an epilogue where thanks are thanked, snarks are snarked, and the volunteers are escorted back to the bar, so Zed can start figuring out just how many patents he'll have to sell just to clean up the place.]

[OOC: Many, many thanks to all the muns who took part in the plot. You guys made it so much more awesome than I could ever have hoped!]

misterbunny.livejournal.com

Out in the woods, there is a Bunny. and he's got a Bike.

"RUN RABBIT, RUN!"

And he's using it to hunt down Demon Bunnies. Cause they make really fun noises when you squish them.

VROOM, VROOM!

HRUUGSQUANK!

"Got another one!"

bring_a_sponge

[OOM: The briefing's complete, the teams are ready, and the Front Door awaits. It's time to step across the threshold, back into the Headquarters of the Men in Black, where Teams Alpha, Delta, and Omega are delighted to find all sorts of shiny things.

Of course, these being Milliways people, the shiniest things of all are the ones that make other things explode.]

cursedrider.livejournal.com

[OOM: We all go a little MAD sometimes. Especially when playing host to paranormal entities.]

There is a rumble outside.

The rumble of an engine coming up fast. What's a rider without a steed? Or more importantly, what's a stunt cyclist without his motorbike? This however, is no ordinary motorbike. It moves with unnatural horsepower, looking less like a family heirloom and more like an animal proper.

For one thing, the wheels are on fire leaving a trail of singed grass in it's wake.

Here, the sun is in full force. So as the engine chugs to a halt and the creature stumbles from the seat to check and see if it's working, it falls.

The noise that the thing emits is like nothing human. A shrieking keening that echoes off the deepest caverns of the world. The pain of a creature that does not want to go quietly. It still has things to accomplish.

Have you ever seen a corpse decompose in reverse? A magical transforming motorbike? Now you have.

With the death of the hellcycle, the path of fire vanishes and the grass returns-leaving only a faint smell of ash in the air, and the smell of sulphur. It clings to the man now moaning to himself, clutching the earth with needy fingers, the cool wet of the morning grass unbelievably soothing.

To recap. Unconcious man lying on the grass next to a very beautiful 1967 chopper, possibly reminiscent of Peter Fonda's "Ride" from Easy Rider.

Welcome back to Milliways Johnny.

[As of now, Johnny's emiting uber!paranormal vibes. Medical puppets could potentially be needed, but ping me on clericpikachu before tagging just so I can tell you what's what?]

sinisteressex.livejournal.com

Though he's slightly disoriented, Dr. Essex is coping with his sudden arrival in Milliways quite well. In fact, he's even deigned to order a drink, it's not like he has to worry about being poisoned.

There is some annoyance at the fact that being in this bar keeps him from his data. He also noticed that the door vanished upon his arrival. Perhaps he was to be stuck there for some time.

All in all, he felt it was better to sit and contemplate his current situation. Which means there's an evil geneticist sitting in the corner booth farthest away from the bar, a good sized amount of brandy in a snifter for company.

Perhaps someone should explain the bar to him.

greatestgenius.livejournal.com

A small, crab-shaped window'd door opens.

A small short bundle of 12 year old and a long pink shock of hair bounces into the bar.

"EUREKA! I knew if I just studied chaos theory long enough, I'd find a way to anchor a door to this place!" She then pontificated to herself upon all the theories and physical improbabilities against getting a door to the End Of The Universe.
This is Washuu.
Washuu is a scientist.
Washuu, in all her infinite wisdom (or so she claims to have) had been certain there was something to find at the end of the strings of theories she was currently working on.
She didn't know there was a bar there, though.

"Holy what in the!?" Was her next line, realizing that, in fact, she wasn't alone. Very not alone. And that she was very very much in a bar.

"Well, that certainly doesn't fit into my equations."

bigheadedchild.livejournal.com

"---No, wait, Gaaaaz! Give that back!"

Is what you might hear, as the small boy with an abnormally large head steps through the door. "Hey--"

Whatever he might have said next is lost to history. as his eyes grow wide. And wider. His gaze flicks around the bar, taking in the myriad patrons, each colourful in their own way... and clearly, not all human. And they land on The Window. ~~Of Doom.~~

His eyes grow wider still, and there's a little squeaking sound emitted from his throat.

An arm snaps up, lightning-fast, one finger pointing.

It may be noted, that he's gaping. And staring. And pointing.

For a moment, Dib wonders if he may have died, and gone to heaven.

...Not that there could possibly be a heaven without Zim strapped to an examination table, his fleash peeled back, and his slimy, pulsing, alien organs on display. But that could very well be in another room.

He glances back, finally, and sees through the still-ajar door, his living room. His notably Gazless living room. He glances about again, and then reaches into a pocket, to produce a somewhat rumpled and grimy bit of scrap paper, which he slips between the latch, and the doorjamb, and rather experimentally closes the door.

When nothing happens, he opens it up again, and sticks his head back into his living room.

"...Hey. This is pretty cool. Interdimensional wormhole in my own living room. ...I wonder if Zim has anything to do with it."

l33t-mouse.livejournal.com

A woman walks into the Bar.

Now, this in itself is not unusual, because lots of women walk into Milliways. But most of them are not purple-skinned redheads packing a set of samurai swords. This is probably the first time such a person has entered the establishment. Then again, this is Milliways. You never know. The woman is holding and looking intently at something that - for those who know the Star Trek canon, or happen to live in it - resembles a PADD. This distraction keeps her from noticing that she's stepping into a place that isn't normally behind the door she just entered.

Behind the woman, on the other side of the doorway, is what looks like a particularly squalid urban alleyway. In the doorway's right corner, the lower edge of a neon sign flickers as cheap, old neon signs tend to do. This backdrop is visible for about three seconds before the door closes.

The woman finally looks up from the device in her hand. She blinks a couple of times, takes a good look around, and then frowns. "Please tell me Al redecorated."

Mouse, Milliways. Milliways, Mouse. Play nice.

EDIT: [OOC: I need someone who knows the Milliframers (but who isn't a Milliframer themselves) to step in here, please - Mouse is not going to be Bound but she needs a reason to spend time here.]

Current Mood: confused

bring_a_sponge

[OOM: The day has finally come. No more planning, no more recruiting, no more working through possible scenarios. Just one more briefing, a few final questions.....

And then it's time to show the Black Oil just what happens when you mess with Agent Zed.]

[ooc: If you're curious about this whole Black Oil business, but haven't read any of the earlier posts, then no worries, this one should tell you everything you need to know. And if you have been reading them, this one will draw everything together. I'll be posting the rest of the OOM over the next few days.]

obnoxiousadams.livejournal.com

[ooc: So here we have John Adams (again - he's been reset - let me know if you have any complications from his reset... ment!) from the musical, 1776. If your pup recognizes him as being the second President of the USofA, that's fine! He's going to pretty much think that he's lost his mind, along with everyone in this strange place, so I'm not concerned about such things. Just don't hand him a history book -- he might have a heart attack. ;D And one last caveat - British sounding pups beware! John may not take kindly to you much, at first.

And let's also pretend that everytime John said "state" he meant "colony". >_>]

[OOM: A very hot day in Philadelphia.]

Somewhere in Milliways, a door opens, revealing a man of shortish stature (height wise) in American colonial-era dress, complete with a cane!

And then the door closes.

... and then it opens again, with the same man in the doorway.

He pokes his head into what looks to be a bar, and his expression quickly contorts into one of complete dismay.

"WHAT IN THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH CONGRESS?!"

Oh, he's a loud one.

misterbunny.livejournal.com

So, there's this Bunny.

And he's got what looks like a flame thrower tank opened up in front of him, on the table. His little paws are wrapped around a welding unit, and some kind of face plate covers his tiny head to protect from light and burns.

Don't worry, he made sure the tank was completely empty before he started working on it.

brotherspider

[OOC: Okay guys, you know what this is about. Time for some trouble!]

The best way to get things done was not necessarily to do it yourself. You can say that the only way to get it done right is to do it yourself, but to do so when you needed to be in multiple places? Uh-uh. You need people to help you, people you can count on. Now, fortunately, he had managed to do that now. The stage was set, but none of the 'players' were in yet. Long story short, he expected Ray Stantz to be rushing in for some reason at some point, and for YT to be ready...as he's alerted her. The messenger would know what to do, when he was ready. Operation "Secret Notes In Class" was prepared. Now, if only that damn rabbit would show up. Anyway, Spider waited patiently in a corner booth, twirling a cane that he had gotten from...somewhere.

fortunateking.livejournal.com

[ooc: And here we have The Tiger of the Chinese Zodiac. He communicates by telepathy (even though it will appear as dialogue), and don't worry - he's not going to eat you!]

Outside, a tiger comes bounding down the mountainside, through the forest and stops, rather abruptly, at the lake.

With a tilt of his head, he leans back on his haunches and stares toward the mysterious building that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. After some thoughtful contemplation and flicking of his tail, he pads curiously towards the new spot, sniffing the air as he goes along.

On the breeze is an unfamiliar scent that grows stronger and stronger as he approaches the big wooden hut-or-whatever-it-is, which gives him even more of a reason to go closer!

He nudges the door open with his nose, and very slowly enters the new place.

"Well, then.

This is new."

wild_blueyonder

First, the humble origins.

And then.

The front door opens, as it so often does, and in enters a new face. It is a face surrounded by a blue cowl and belonging to a tall, very big guy in a blue bug suit. He pauses when he sees his new surroundings as the door closes behind him. He’d been writing on the pad of yellow paper he’s still got in his hands but right now his hands are still, and so are the blue antennae sticking up from the top of his head. Blue eyes roam over the room with a steel gaze, and then the man straightens up, hands going to hips in a heroic pose and then…he goes into a soliloquy.

“He stands triumphant, surveying this new place and amazed by the mysteries within. He is a stoic figure that is a monument to justice and all that is right, and good, and cool. Today the universe served him a victory sandwich and oh boy, did he eat it. Yes. Indeed. He did.

“And now, with pad and pen in hand he takes stock and survey of the groovy new place he has come to call home. For villainy makes itself a laundry list of bad everyday and what better way to combat that, then a grocery list of the things that will be used to kick evil’s keister right out of the laundry mat like a bum with no quarters? Sorry bad guys, lady justice doesn’t make change.”

There are probably a few people who wonder ‘who is that big blue guy standing in front of the door talking to himself?’. Milliways, he is- The Tick.

rt-5478.livejournal.com

Artie has an iPod.

Specifically, he has a pink 4GB iPod Nano.

Even more specifically, he has a pink 4GB iPod Nano which contains the audiobook version of John Hodgman's The Areas of My Expertise.

Have you ever seen a gerbil listening to an mp3 player and occasionally chucking to himself?

You have now.

steadfastknight

There was a car sitting at the side of the bar.

He hadn't intended to show up here, but then he never did. But soon, very soon, he would be returning to work. That meant he had to get used to his true form once more, and thus, he sat on four wheels. The scanner swept back and forth, refreshing the view his sensors gave him. It was returning home, and yet had become so alien.

Oh, the grief Karr would give him if he heard that.

misterbunny.livejournal.com

Through the bar it flows, thunderously pounding, a music that gets into your blood, a cry of monsterous power that makes peoples bones vibrate, makes their teeth chatter. Somewhere, somehow, the Bunny has gotten his hands on a musical instrument, and he's giving it a good blow.

WANH WANH WANH, WANH WANH-WANH, WANH WANH-WANH!

For those of you who do not know what exactly that means, well, if you have never heard the Imperial march on a set of bagpipes, you're really missing out. But now your pup has, cause the Bunny is perched on a table, puffing and a squeezing.

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

A lot can change in six months. Eden McCain is proof of that.

The young woman who enters Milliways is wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. Her hair is in a pixie-cut. A trashy romance novel dangles loosely from her hand.

She stops, staring in shock. Then she spins around - seeing her Door, she dashes to it and back to the real world.

She returns a moment later, a notebook in hand. She rapidly flips through it. As she searches, she tries to find an empty seat. So consumed is she with the notebook that she might bump into you, or accidentally join your table.

Up to you.